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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29655822">God Help Me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostCrumpet/pseuds/GhostCrumpet'>GhostCrumpet</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 22:02:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,042</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29655822</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostCrumpet/pseuds/GhostCrumpet</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy likes Bucky. Bucky likes Darcy. Bucky thinks Darcy is dating Johnny.<br/>Johnny is a good bro.</p><p>Giveaway fic for sweetsigyn!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James "Bucky" Barnes/Darcy Lewis</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>292</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>God Help Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>God help me</em>. The man in front of her wouldn't shut up. She had a perfectly good glass of untouched champagne in one hand, the other braced on the table, waiting for the suit to stop gabbling at her about his shipping company and to start opening his wallet so he could bid on the silent auction she was manning. It didn't help that with every other breath his gaze skated down the line of her neck to the shadow between her breasts. Jane had insisted on the dress, deep navy velvet that would have better suited Jessica Rabbit than shorty-short Darcy Lewis, but the plunging neckline left absolutely nothing to mystery regarding the shape of her assets.</p><p><em>So what if it makes my ass look a little dumpy from behind</em>, she'd reasoned to herself in the store once Jane would not be persuaded on leaving without the dress, <em>I can just keep my butt to the wall the entire night</em>.</p><p>“So then I said to him, it's because you're quartered on the port side!” the boorish gentleman slapped his thigh and laughed. Darcy stared at him as if he was insane.</p><p>“Did you just quote Family Guy at me?” Her eyebrow raised of it's own volition and she was hard pressed to stop it, despite the fact that the multi-jazillionaire would probably not bid on their charity auction if she pissed him off.</p><p>“I- pardon me?” he looked confused and then annoyed.</p><p>“Did you just like, seriously? Seriously, did you just rip off a Family Guy joke? And you couldn't even make it a good one, like a dead baby one. Wow man, I am... yeah. Huh. Stumped here. Way to charm a girl, buddy.” She crossed her arms under her breasts as the business man (Carl was his name maybe? She couldn't remember) went a distinct shade of salmon pink.</p><p>“Well I-” he squawked out, looking more aggrieved. She rolled her eyes and took a sip of her champagne, the good stuff that Tony had passed her when he'd swept by twenty minutes ago in a cloud of press and fawning women. She felt a little guilty. Maybe-Carl was boring, sure, but she didn't have to go and deflate his balloon like that. She was just on edge. Irritated. He'd been an easy victim. As he continued to make awkward sputtering noises, and then edged away from her as if she'd never existed at all, she let her shoulders slump and she tried not to look over at the crowd by the bar. She tried not to look at the flash of a metal hand as it held it's glass of whiskey carefully.</p><p>She definitely wasn't looking at the man who was attached to that metal arm, in his sharply tailored suit, with his slicked back hair. Not him, not the girls hanging off of him, or the old war veterans who chatted with him.</p><p>They'd had a thing, or so she'd thought. He bounced between the tower and the upstate facility, and during his tower visits he'd spent a lot of time in the communal lounge area, watching TV, cooking more food than was healthy in order to keep his super-metabolism from crashing and burning. And, well, Darcy had a good set of well-working lady parts. It hadn't been intentional, going from secretly-lusting to full out vomit-inducing, rage-hating-herself middle-school-crushing on Bucky, but it had happened. He'd just been so nice, looking at her instead of through her. Darcy knew she was pretty, knew that men (and no few women) enjoyed eating her up with their eyeballs and imagining her sprawled out on her sheets, but in a world of supers she was almost invisible.</p><p>It was hard to measure up to someone like, Captain Marvel for instance, or even the ever-beautiful totally-rich slender-as-fuck Kate Bishop who was hanging off of Clint's arm and chatting up some diplomats like she'd born to do it (and she had been born to it, as nice as the other Hawkeye was, Darcy had to fight really hard not to be jealous of Kate's lack of student debt and fancy multi-million dollar condo).</p><p>“Ugh,” Darcy breathed out the word, stealing a classic Kate line and not caring about it, then downed the rest of her champagne. Half the reason she'd let Jane talk her into the damn dress is because finally, <em>finally</em>, she and Bucky were going to be at an event together, and after so many nights of eating popcorn together and watching House Hunters International she thought he might ask her to dance. Or sneak her off in a corner and kiss her. But he'd ignored her, flat out ignored her the whole evening, holing himself up with a bunch of grizzled vets that were missing as many limbs as he was, and she remained at her station trying to convince rich people to part with their money. Invisible to him, anyway.</p><p>“Hey there gorgeous,” Johnny Storm, signature cocky grin in place, bellied up to her. To some people, she had a target painted right between her breasts. Johnny Storm was some people. He immediately put an arm around his shoulders. “Where's Big Electric?” he asked, as he looked around for Thor. Darcy tried not to roll her eyes and ducked out from under his heavy limb.</p><p>“Off impressing dignitaries in England. Trying to convince them that Asgard didn't mean to rip a hole in the middle of their country,” she said, and then went to straighten some of the silent auction slips. Johnny sighed.</p><p>“You're not gonna moon after that idiot all night,” he said, and then grabbed her arm gently and dragged her out towards the dance floor.</p><p>“Wha-hey!” She had to move fast or leave her heels behind her as he swung her around and against his chest. He was so... firm. She glared up at him as his hand clasped around her waist and his other laced through her fingers. “Mooning? What the hell, Storm?”</p><p>“Awww, c'mon, don't be like that, Darce,” he winked as she reluctantly swayed against him. Alright, fine, he was a good dancer, and she liked being held close in a warm, muscled embrace. It was nice. Thor would dance with her at these events when he wasn't playing arm-candy to Jane while she talked with scientists, and Johnny was a close second when it came to nice broad shoulders and a some seriously killer dance-floor moves.</p><p>“I'm not mooning,” she said, and then settled her head in the little dip between his shoulder and his collarbone. His hand mapped across her lower back, thumb stroking along her spine. It as nice, the attention, and for once she didn't fight it.</p><p>“Yeah you are,” he murmured into the top of her head, and she felt him press a kiss there. Johnny was... not boyfriend material. But he was boy-friend material. He crashed at the tower a lot, more now that the Ultron thing had happened, and she had to admit he was a funny guy. For all his stupid pick up lines, and the weird way he ate his Oreos (toasted? ugh), he never treated her like she was an add-on, an extra. Sure he talked to her breasts like they were sentient, but she knew if she'd asked him to stop he would have. “Barnes is an idiot. Handsome idiot, but still an idiot.”</p><p>“I'm that obvious huh?” That hurt, it bit a little on her insides, that everyone could see how lost she was over the guy who could probably have had any woman he wanted (especially the ladies into BDSM, he seemed to attract the Elvira-tall and stacked variety).</p><p>“Only completely and totally,” Johnny said and then stiffened. “Ah. Captain Rogers is glaring at me.” He bent his head to look at her completely. “Wanna kiss me and give him a reason to scowl?”</p><p>“Don't bait Steve. He's just mad because the tabloids keep calling you guys twins-separated-by-time.” She pushed his jaw away from her face and felt his chest move as he chuckled.</p><p>“Nah, he's pissed because someone's moving in on his bud's territory. That's the look of <em>don't fuck my bro's girl </em>all over his face right now.” Johnny dipped her in a smooth move, face inches from hers and she gasped, hanging onto his shoulders hard so she wouldn't fall. “I've got you, Darce.”</p><p>He was so close she could feel his breath on her face and she shivered. Maybe waiting around for Bucky to wake up was stupid. If he didn't see her that way already, he probably never would. Holding her was one hundred and ninety pounds of rich, very smart, asshole who was probably excellent in bed. Johnny had made it clear multiple times that he was willing to go the extra mile with her, had even hinted that maybe she'd have him hanging up his bachelor title for good. She moved to close the gap between their mouths, and Johnny's free hand came up to shield their faces, but he didn't let her kiss him. After a moment he pulled her upright, and she felt thwarted, and a little embarrassed.</p><p>“What's wrong?” she asked, voice tight. “Can't seal the deal?”</p><p>“I'm happy to let you use me almost any way you want Lewis, but not like this,” he said, a gentle smile on his face as the song came to the end. Then he looked up and past her, his smile turning into a smirk. “Hey it's the little tin soldier,” he commented with a lazy drawl to his voice. Darcy turned just in time for a strong jacket-covered arm to scoop her across the waist and toss her over his shoulder. She would have yelped but the breath got knocked out of her as Bucky orchestrated a quick retreat from the ballroom. The last thing she saw was Johnny's wry grin and the little wave of his fingers.</p><p>They were in a darkened hallway by the service elevators before she got her shit together enough to start wriggling in his grip.</p><p>“Alright, asshole, put me down!” she said. He hauled her off his shoulder and set her down on her heels, hanging onto her arms so she could steady herself. She glared up at him and fixed her hair, straightening the skirt of her dress. “I’m sorry, I missed the fire alarm going off in there, and in case you haven’t noticed, we’re not fully evacuated yet, so if there’s some sort of emergency, can we please-”</p><p>His mouth crushed on hers as his body pressed her up into the wall. He immediately set about undoing all her hard work on her hair as his fingers of his right hand speared into it and found her scalp. She made a noise which should have been a protest, but was more like an encouragement, and dammit, she did not want to encourage him. He was an assface, but an excellent kisser of an assface.</p><p>He pulled away only when she was thoroughly kissed, lips swollen and body aching for more.</p><p>“No,” she breathed out. “Not… not happening.” She pushed a hand into the middle of his chest and he stepped back, giving way easily.</p><p>“Already happened there, doll,” he said, his thumb finding the line of her lower lip and wiping it, probably fixing some smeared lipstick. Her stomach turned over and she wanted to punch him. Then kiss it better. She glared at him.</p><p>“You’re a fucking menace, Barnes, you can’t just fireman carry me over your shoulder and then kiss me after ignoring me all night for the war vets.” She winced internally at her asshole commentary on amputees, but given how her heart was beating erratically like an angry wasp under a glass cup, she figured he had it coming. “I was having a <em>nice </em>dance, and then-”</p><p>“Bullshit you were,” he said, “that weren’t even a real kiss back there, I’m not stupid.” He bent in low, voice shifting in his throat and hitting her right between her thighs. Fuck him. Fuck him so much.</p><p>“What do you know about-” he cut her off with another kiss, searing on her lips, his tongue teasing at them, telling her to open up and let him in.</p><p>She didn’t have it in her to deny him. Her angry rant about what a dickrag he was could wait until later, much later, like-</p><p>“Oh right there,” she gasped, his mouth moving down her jaw to her neck, finding her pulse and zeroing in on it with his teeth. Her fingers grasped at the collars of his jacket helplessly. She felt him move and then heard the slap of metal on plastic- he’d hit the call button on the service elevator. “What are we,” she managed to get out around the huffing and heavy breathing that was occupying her lungs, “room service?”</p><p>“Nah,” he said, voice husky and dry as he moved up to kiss the side of her temple. The elevator pinged and the doors slid open. “But you’re gonna wanna call for it, since I don’t think you ate much at dinner, and I mean to keep you occupied all fucking night, Lewis.” The heat in his eyes as he walked her backwards nearly made her stumble, and he had to catch her with one arm, pulling her into him. Her cheeks were flushed right across the bridge of her nose.</p><p>“You need to not… not say things like that,” she mumbled as she tucked herself against his chest. His fingers were trailing up her spine just then, finding the deep v in the back of the dress and slipping under it, tracing over her skin and giving her a hard-core case of the goose bumps all over.</p><p>“But you love it,” he breathed into her hair before capturing her mouth with his again, keeping her occupied until both of his hands slid down under her ass and picked her up. She couldn’t get her legs around his hips, not with her dress being as tight as it was, but he carried her anyway, her knees bent and tucked together. She praised science for the miracle of his muscles when he managed to get them into the hotel room and the door locked without dropping her.</p><p>It wasn’t until her back hit the bed that it really flashed through her that <em>ohh shit this is actualfacts happening</em>, her brain finally catching up with her body as she watched him undo his bowtie and flick open the buttons of his shirt.</p><p>“Are we…” her voice croaked in her throat and he paused, looking at her questioningly for a second before he continue undressing. His movements were perfunctory, practiced, like he’d had a lot of experience getting out of $25,000 suits for a quickie in a hotel, and then he was shirtless over her, dress-pants half unzipped and shoes thunking to the floor.</p><p>“Are we fucking? Unless you tell me otherwise,” he said, eyes rolling over her as she squirmed across the duvet. Her mouth closed with a click and she swallowed her feelings of nervousness. Bucky lowered himself over her, his knee catching between hers as he nudged her legs apart, and his hand helped her dress up her thighs. She stared up at the ceiling, caught between barging on forward and clinging to the fear that the morning would come with a whole heap of regrets.</p><p>“Why?” She hated herself for a moment, her voice so tiny and fragile and weak. He caught her hand in his, fingers tangling with hers and he looked at her, just her, not her body, not her fancy dress, just right at her like there was nothing but the two of them that existed. She had to take a deep breath at the heaviness of affection and… and something else in his eyes.</p><p>“Cause you want it. I want it. I want you, I’ve been dogging your shadow for months now, trying not to let the way Storm touches you strike me dead. Not been easy, he doesn’t deserve you, but I figured it was your choice and you’d chosen him.” He was so matter-of-fact, relaxed even, when her stomach was a storm of eight year old children at the opening night of Harry Potter. Her breathing stuttered and she stayed quiet. He just raised an eyebrow and continued, “but then you showed up tonight and… well. Took everything I had not ask you to be mine… the only reason I stayed away cause of the hot head. Until I saw him not-kiss you.” His face dropped close to hers. “You weren’t fooling anyone, I know his lips never even touched you.” There was a fire in his eyes she knew she’d caused, and her hips rolled up into his in answer.</p><p>“So you’re an assassin but not a homewrecker, is what you’re saying?” her words didn’t have the normal zing to them, probably because she was shaking under him as his thumb traced along the crease where her thigh and torso connected. A smile cracked across his face.</p><p>“When I figured out you weren’t wearing panties thirty seconds after you walked in tonight, I… let’s just say Storm’s lucky I didn’t want to add homewrecker to my resume.” He kissed her again, hand slipping sideways over her bare sex and her insides clenched down hard and hot. God she needed it, needed him, and had done for way too long. “I got lucky,” he murmured into her neck as he moved down her body, three fingers splaying over her wet slippery skin down below and digging in to tease her. “I thought, nah, no way that girl looks so good natural, but I couldn’t figure out where the bra was… didn’t see any straps, didn’t see… the lines…”</p><p>His mouth hovered over where her breasts parted company, his tongue dipping down to taste her skin.</p><p>“Then I realized that not only was my girl not wearing panties, she wasn’t wearing a bra either, and hell if I wasn’t hard for the rest of the night and having to hide belly-in against the bar so as to not make a fool of myself.”</p><p>She cried out when his fingers parted her, middle finger teasing over the slight rise of her clit, his stubbled jaw pushing the velvet neckline of her dress aside so he could capture one hardened nipple and flick it with his tongue.</p><p>“Oh fu-” she choked off the curse as she tried to breathe and swear at the same time unsuccessfully.</p><p>“Say you never liked him,” he said against her breast, teeth grazing over the sensitive peak.</p><p>“Fuck- James,” she whimpered when his fingers dipped down low between her thighs and pressed against her entrance.</p><p>“It’s only me,” he was at the lower curve of her breast, mouthing at the fullness of it, tongue finding the flat plane of her ribs underneath. She closed her eyes tight when two fingers slid into her, blunt and wide and just-almost-too-much. She had to bite the inside of her cheek as intense red-hot bands of need circled inside her gut.</p><p>“It is,” she said, clawing at the bedsheets as his fingers pulled out and then twisted around each other, sliding back into her and stretching her open.</p><p>“How long’s it been, Darce?” He was hard against her lower thigh, rubbing erratically as he finger fucked her and got her hips going in a desperate rhythm. The zipper of his fly was catching on her skin, dragging and scratching until the mild pain of it combined with the angle of his fingers digging up and into her g-spot made her hiccup out a desperate cry. His hand stilled and he looked up, eyes wide and anxious, like he was scared he’d hurt her.</p><p>“I’m fine, just fine,” she gasped and then squirmed. A shadow fell across his face and he moved to pull away. “N-no!” Darcy grabbed onto him, nails slipping off the metal of his one arm. He paused and waited for her. “Please,” she whispered, “please I want you, I’m fine, but I need you.”</p><p>He crushed her, hips angling between hers, and she could feel the hot length of him slipping out of his pants as they dragged down his thighs. His cock was pressed tight against her, sliding through her damp skin as he got himself slick in her need.</p><p>Then there were no words that she could recall, just the deep burning spread of him as he pushed into her, one long slow thrust that took him from tip to base. Her thighs wrapped up around his waist and he held himself off of her on his elbows, his fingers digging into her shoulders.</p><p>All around her she could hear their breathing, harsh and uncoordinated as he began moving, bare skin on hers, the wet smack of his hips as he worked her over. She had been waiting for this for months, but wasn’t ready, wasn’t even close to ready for how good it made her feel. She clung to the pillows above her head, trying to stay grounded as he watched her as he fucked her into the mattress.</p><p>They’d all made jokes about his murder strut, but it was nothing compared to the intensity of the way he stared her down as he moved inside her. She kept forgetting to breathe under his watch, and found herself going longer and longer between gasps for air as the intensity of her need built. It was like riding an avalanche, the poetic part of her brain offered as her thighs shook around his hips and she screamed his name, fingers leaving the sheets to scratch down his bare back.</p><p>He heaved, arching away from her, his eyes closing and his jaw trembling hard as he pushed into her, taking her and marking her as his once more… then twice. He came with a low groan and then collapsed down over her stomach, hips still moving slow and languid. He only stopped pumping in and out of her with his softening cock when she whined and pushed at his side with her hands, trying to get him to still.</p><p>“Don’t wanna stop,” he said into the curve of her belly, kissing up to her ribs. “Can’t ever get enough of you. I could die in a hundred years having you every night and it wouldn’t be enough.”</p><p>She had nothing to say to that, nothing… her heart fluttered madly and she wanted to answer him with something in return, but all she could do was just breathe and hang onto him, her fingers flexing in his hair.</p><p>“Bucky-”</p><p>“S’okay doll,” he said, pulling himself out from between her legs with a wince and then settling beside her. She rolled over to look at him, and he skimmed a loose hand down her shoulder and then across the curve of her body to her hip. “I just needed to tell you. Doesn’t have to be reciprocated. I just needed to get it out before my heart shredded itself to pieces.”</p><p>Darcy swallowed hard and then closed her eyes, letting herself take a deep breath before looking at him again.</p><p>“I’d like that,” she said, voice tiny and folded up, like a paper origami mouse. He blinked, eyelashes fluttering in the dark of the room. She edged closer, disappearing the space between them and pressing into his body, her face finding the crook of his neck and shoulder. “I want that. That’s what I want.”</p><p>“Me to shred my heart to pieces?” he asked, although his voice shook a bit, like he wanted to just make it a joke but couldn’t quite bring himself to.</p><p>“No, the other thing. The together for a hundred years thing. The us being always thing. That’s what I want,” she said into his skin. He let out a low breath and went still for a second that felt like a year. Then she felt him drop a feather-light kiss above her eyebrow and every fear rushed out of her, replaced by only the warmth of him that enfolded her.</p><p>“Then, God help me Darce, that’s what we’ll do.”</p>
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